


You Were The Best

by halseys



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 21:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8300842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halseys/pseuds/halseys
Summary: Jorge has a visitor to his hotel room after the race on Sunday in Japan.
Slightly inspired by Jorge's instagram post.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I got inspired by Jorge's Instagram post where he said 'Congratulations Marc. You were the best.' Or something like that but then it went down a complete different path to the one in my mind originally but hey ho. Enjoy. Feedback is appreciated.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock, knock.

Jorge groaned, feeling his body aching all over from his crash on Saturday. He'd been wallowing in his own pity in his hotel room for the past few hours; his team kept giving him worried glances as he sat in the Yamaha hospitality, so he'd decided to retire to his room for a little piece and quiet. Obviously, the person at the door hadn't quite got the memo.

"Jorge?" The Yamaha riders heart skipped a beat as he heard the familiar voice on the other side. The voice he'd heard in both his dreams and his nightmares. "I know you're in there." He continues, and Jorge hears a soft thump as if the intruder was knocking his head against the door, "We should talk, no? Open up." 

Jorge huffs, lifting his heavy body off the bed and to the door, unlocking it and slowly pulling it open, leaving enough room for the other man to enter.  
"Haven't you got celebrations to be at?" He questions, raising his eyebrow.  
"Early flight tomorrow, don't feel like flying with a hangover," he laughs, although Jorge notes it's a little subdued compared to his usual cackle, "Look, Jorge, are you okay?" The other man asks, kindly.  
"I fell off, Marc." Jorge shrugs, pouting his lips.  
"I know, but you didn't injure yourself anymore?"  
"No Sir." Jorge mocks, a little frustrated about how many times he'd had to answer that question today. Marc rolls his eyes, but smirks a little.  
"I wanted to be sipping champagne on the podium with you today; you know that right?" The new world champion asks, leaning his back against the wall. Jorge scoffs.  
"If you were, you wouldn't be world champion right now." He reminds the younger rider.  
"We know I would have won it in Phillip Island if not," he boasts with a smile, "I was rooting for you. I always am."  
"Not now Marc," Jorge groans, "you've won the championship, you were the best. You don't need to mess with my head anymore."  
"I'm not messing," he steps in closer to the Yamaha rider, resting a hand on the other mans hip to pull him a little closer. Marc enjoys hearing the pace of Jorge's heartbeat speeding up.  
"I can't do this again. You saw what happened in the middle of the season. I can't afford for that to happen again." He stated, pushing the Honda rider away. "You already made your decision to have the championship instead of me." 

Marc casts his gaze down, Jorge can tell he's nervous. This was the first time they'd really spoken outside of a press conference since Marc had broken up with him, deciding to concentrate completely on the championship and informing the older rider that he just didn't have time for him anymore.  
"I really want both." He sighs, taking a seat on Jorge's temporary bed, "I still love you." He whispers, fiddling with his hands in his lap. Jorge lets out a sarcastic laugh.  
"You don't get to say that, Marc! You ending things... It made me lose my confidence, okay? And it made me lose the chance to fight you for this championship because my head wasn't in it. I was too far gone on you. You lost me but you got the championship and I got nothing." He murmurs, taking a seat next to Marc on the bed.  
"You don't have to have nothing. You've got me." He pleads, he reaches out his hand and grabs onto Jorge's, sliding in closer, gazing into his ex- lovers eyes before turning his gaze to the others lips, plump and tempting to kiss.  
"I really don't think I can do this again, Marc," he whispers as the Honda rider rests his forehead against his, brushing their noses. Marc brings his hand up to cup Jorge's face, using his thumb to stroke soft brushes across his cheek before bringing their lips together. 

Marc trails soft kisses along Jorge's neck as he lets out a little groan, and the pads of his fingertips trace along his body.    
“I've missed you," he promises, "I haven’t been able to touch you in a long time.” Marc pouts, fingers crawling up the inside of Jorge's jean clad thigh, making the other mans breathing shake.  “I've seen those girls and boys around you…" he comments, jealously laced in his voice, "I bet you’ve touched plenty.” Jorge fires back.   
"I haven't, even if I did, they couldn't be you. You moan the best, and you taste the best.” he moans, now biting down on the soft skin of the Yamaha riders neck. Jorge bits down on his bottom lip to stop himself gasping in the pleasure of it all. Marc's hand sliding up his thigh to palm between his legs.  
"Have you really missed me or the sex?”  
"Sex with you.” he smirks, before correcting his statement. “You, obviously.” Jorge whines and writhes against the bed. Marc pushes him back against the bed, straddling him as he slowly grinds his hips down on Jorge's crotch. He revels in the whimpers slipping from the older mans mouth and watches as he lifts his hips up to create more friction between them. A smile spreads across his face, he'd always thought Jorge looked his most gorgeous when he was in the ecstasy of the cusp of an orgasm. Jorge moans as Marc smirks, moving down and pushing his shirt up, placing chaste wet kisses along his stomach and chest before capturing his lips again. Jorge moves his hands to grab at Marc's ass, squeezing hard. Marc lifts Jorge's tshirt over his head, and trails his hands down his body. He unbelts Jorge's jeans and pulls them down, smirking as he kisses at his inner thighs, sucking lightly leaving red marks against creamy coloured skin. 

"Beg me," Marc asks slowly, drawing out his words, "you know I love it when you beg." Jorge gasps as he can feel the younger mans breath inches away from his cock.  
"Fuck. Please Marc," he whimpers, "don't tease me, not now. Not today. He breathes heavy. Marc grins and makes a show of pulling Jorge's boxers down and slowly, teasingly, wraps his mouth around him, keeping his big brown eyes staring up at him as him sucks. Jorge watches him too, putting his hands in his hair and tugging a little as he moans Marc's name and comes in his mouth. 

Jorge grins as he watches the other rider swallow him down before capturing him with another kiss. "You still taste good," Marc teases, "you're so beautiful Jorge.” he speaks in a low voice, and runs his finger along Jorge's jaw and traces his lips.  
"Marc... I don't..." Jorge sighs, and runs his hand over his face, feeling regret start to flood his emotions. He cursed himself for being weak and allowing Marc back in. Jorge hated that he was weak in every sense when it came to Marc.  
"Jorge. Look at me," Marc stays straddled on his hips, and grabs both cheeks with his hands so the older man has to look at him, "I'm not gonna leave you again." He promises. Jorge bites down hard on his bottom lip, doubting if he truly believed Marc's words.  
"Okay," he mumbles quietly, "okay." Jorge yanks his hands out of Marc's grip before flipping them over, taking control over the younger man. His hands easily find their way to the button of Marc's jeans, before he pulls them down, followed by his boxers; leaving them both stripped naked.  
"Shall I-” Before Jorge can even finish his sentence, Marc cuts him off.   
"God, yes, Jorge. You don’t need to ask. Do whatever you want to me.” He doesn’t need more of an invitation than that. Jorge presses his lips to his brown eyed boy, before turning him over. He grabs some lube from the bedside cabinet, Marc smirking as he saw it and realising Jorge obviously imagined something else happening tonight. He coats his fingers before pushing a finger inside Marc to prep him. “More.” Marc insists, and of course Jorge complies as Marc presses his body down against the white sheets. The moans that are slipping from the man's mouth as Jorge's fingers him makes Jorge doubt how long he will be able to last once he gets inside, "I’m ready, Jorge, I need you,” he insists, whimpering. Jorge slips his fingers out, and grabs a hold of Marc's ass, slowly burying himself inside his lover. Marc gasps clutching at the sheets beneath him, as Jorge thrust into him. He was being slow and gentle, and made Marc wonder if he were being slow out of fear their night would be over soon and he wanted to embrace every moment they had together. Marc was starting to see stars in his eyes from the pleasure that washed over his body like ocean waves. Sex with Jorge was always fantastic, but he was gasping and writhing beneath the Yamaha rider, debating if distance had truly made his heart fonder. Jorge pulls Marc back, so his back is flush against his chest as he picks up his pace. Marc can feel his harsh breathing against the back of his neck, as Jorge wraps an arm around his chest, he can tell his close and pushes his ass against him to help him finish with a groan before they fall apart.   

Marc rests beside Jorge before kissing him, running his hands through his hair, even pulling on it to deepen the kiss. As they break the kiss, they watch each other through hazy eyes, foreheads rest against one another’s as they both breathe heavily. Jorge can't help the smile on his face, maybe he didn't have nothing. Maybe, he had Marc back now. "I'm always rooting for you." Marc promises, he speaks gently, resting his head back on the headboard. “I'm not leaving you behind this time."

...

Jorge wakes with a satisfied grin, before reaching over to find the other side of the bed empty and cold. His happy mood disappearing as he tries to piece together in the cold light of day if last nights events were real or just a cruel dream. His body aches, some parts in pleasure and some parts in pain as he realises it was definitely real. His heart sinks to his stomach as he realises despite his words, Marc had left him behind. Yet again.

He almost wants to sob at the unfairness of it all. The unfairness of having his heartbroken over again by the same damn man he can't seem to get over, he pulls the covers over his head, hiding from the rest of the world may make it seem like it wasn't true. 

He huffs as he hears the door swing open, he really wasn't in the mood for his team to be telling him to pack up and get on a plane right now. He feels the bed beside him dip and the covers pulled back off him.  
"Hey sleepyhead, wake up. I got some breakfast... I hope you like bagels." Jorge's eyes open in a flash, glee taking over as his eyes meet Marc's sat beside him, "jeez, I've never seen anyone so happy to see me," he laughs in his usual jajajaja before Jorge bundles him in cuddle.  
"I thought you left me." Jorge confesses, cheeks turning pink.  
"Only to get breakfast," Marc explains, "I told you, I'm not leaving again. I'm yours, as long as you want me."  



End file.
